Ginny Weasley and the Chamber of Secrets
by batdude
Summary: Diaries, certainly, shouldn't write back.
1. The Boy Who Lived

**A/N: **Hey everybody!

So here's my first attempt at writing fanfiction. I actually started this way back in 2007, back when I was a 12-year-old little shrimp, and I recently discovered it and have given it a makeover. Hope you enjoy! I've tried making it stick as much to canon as possible!

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><p><strong>Chapter I - Harry's Arrival<strong>

BUMP.

_Ugh. Shut up, you ruddy ghoul_, thought a little girl, who was sleeping.

BUMP.

_Poor Ron, he's got to sleep in the room right under it._

VROOM.

_What on Earth could that be?_

"Ugh, what is going on with this thing?"

_That certainly wasn't the ghoul._

"Fred, George, what are you doing here?"

_What?_

Following the voices, Ginny Weasley quietly crept into the kitchen. She saw three people huddled together, whispering unintelligibly outside the house. She tiptoed out.

"What're you three doing out here?" she whispered. Her voice, albeit soft, sounded strangely loud in the silent night.

Fred, George and Ron Weasley, three of her older brothers, gave strangled yells and jumped around.

"Ginny...Ginny, where are—what are you doing here?"

She crossed her arms and looked straight at them. "Ron, I could ask you the same thing."

Ron stuttered, "Uh—I…I woke up be-because G-Gred and Forge threw—no, I mean the ghoul woke me up and…it woke up…Fred and G-George too, and—"

"And who on _earth_ are Gred and Forge?" asked Ginny. Ron flushed.

"Us, you see, in Ickle Ronnie's first year one of his friends named us that—" said one of the twins.

"You're _horrible_ liars."

Fred sighed. "All right, I'll tell you. Ron was going to rescue Harry from his awful cousin's place, and George and I decided we'd go along with him to help."

_Oh_. For a moment, Ginny was left speechless. She had only actually seen the Boy Who Lived once, but her fascination with Ron's best friend had only strengthened when her brother told Ginny all about the adventures they had shared his first year.

Ron had taken Ginny's moment of astonished silence to growl at the twins, "You're _not_ coming!"

"Oh yes, we are, Ronnie, and that's our final word," said Fred. Ron sent the twins a furious look, but did not argue.

Finally regaining her vocal abilities, Ginny clasped her hands together and said, "Oh, please let me come, too? I won't be a bother!"

"There isn't enough room for you after me, Fred, Ron, Harry and his trunk," snarled George.

"But I saw Dad put that extension charm on it," she protested.

Fred sighed. "Ginny, you're not even wearing the right clothes. You can't go in your nightdress!"

"I can change," she whispered fiercely.

"_No!_" shouted George.

"Shh…" hushed Ron. "You'll wake Mum! And Ginny, you're not coming. You can stay up and wait for us, but you're not coming, okay? If mum found out that we went, we'd get in trouble, but if she found out that you came along too, you'd get in trouble too, got it? So I don't want you to come, you'll get into trouble if you do."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Okay," she said, "but I'm staying up for you."

Ron said, "Not here—go to my room and wait up there."

"Nice one, Ron," whispered Fred.

Ginny bit back a retort and stormed back upstairs. She hesitated at her bedroom door, but then decided against it. She went up another flight of stairs to Ron's bedroom, where Harry James Potter, the Boy Who Lived, would sleep the following night.

She sat down on Ron's unmade bed and glanced around. His room was violently orange, covered from wall to ceiling to bedspread with Chudley Cannons posters. The one moving picture that was _not _orange featured Ron and two other people, smiling and waving at the photographer.

From Ron's letters, she knew the girl with the bushy brown hair, buck teeth, and very pretty eyes was Hermione Granger. But it was neither Ron nor Hermione that Ginny's eyes were focused on.

It was the boy in the middle, the boy who looked startlingly normal despite his otherworldly fame. It was Harry Potter's crooked little smile, his lightning bolt scar, and his sad emerald-green eyes. It was the fact that he was merely one year older than her but had done so much more in his life than she ever would.

True, Ginny had never officially _met_ Harry Potter, but she had dreamed about it many times before. Somehow, it always ended up with him proclaiming his undying love and affection for her and them riding a broomstick into the moonlight.

And only when that image crossed her mind did Ginny Weasley realize that she had fallen asleep.

When she next woke up, it was barely past dawn and Ginny heard her mother shouting at someone. Still not completely awake, Ginny shuffled downstairs and into the kitchen.

When she saw Harry, her entire world stopped. The only thought she could articulate in her brain was: _You're wearing your nightgown, you idiot._

Not knowing whether or not the noise she had made was actually _human_, Ginny rushed back upstairs—to her room this time—mortified because aside from being seen in her embarrassing, too-short-to-be-full-length blue nightdress, she had heard Ron introduce Ginny to Harry in a way that made Ginny sound rather mental. "Ginny—my sister. She's been talking about you all summer. Bit annoying really."

She slowly walked to her closet, trying to ignore the fact that her entire body was still burning with embarrassment. Quickly throwing on some of her least worn-out and shabby clothes, she waited in her room until she could be certain that Harry had left. She heard Percy go down for breakfast, and she heard her father return from work. Finally, she saw Harry, Ron, and the twins traipse outside to the garden, so it was deemed safe by her to go downstairs to eat breakfast.

Only her mother was left in the kitchen when she finally arrived.

"Good morning, Ginny!" said her mother, cheerily. "Sleep well?"

"I heard voices and so I came down. Everyone hasn't eaten already?"

"Yes, but there's plenty of sausages and toast left for you, dear."

Ginny piled three sausages on her plate and grabbed a slice of toast, then asked innocently, "How did Harry Potter get here?" It was better that her mother assumed that Ginny had no clue of what had transpired the night before.

Mrs Weasley shook her head furiously. "Those boys! I heard some noises in the night, and then I went up to the twins' room. It was empty. Then I went up to Ron's room, and you were there, fast asleep. I knew that sometimes when you got nightmares when you were younger you'd snuggle up next to him in bed—one of the most adorable things I've ever seen, by far—but that did not explain where he went. Just to make sure, I checked your bedroom, but it was empty! I stayed up for the rest of the night, and then—honestly, they could have been killed, or seen, or they could have lost your father his job! I heard the flying car pulling up on the driveway, and who arrives but Harry Potter."

Ginny giggled. "Where is he now?" she asked, through a mouthful of toast and sausage.

"He insisted on de-gnoming the garden with Fred, George and Ron. I told him to go upstairs and sleep, because he must have been tired out from that trip in the flying car."

"Mum, can I help de-gnome the garden?" asked Ginny eagerly.

"Between you and me," Mrs Weasley smiled, "de-gnoming the garden was a punishment for the twins and Ron. So you don't have to bother, Ginny."

Ginny grinned at her mother and then asked her, "I heard Dad's voice. What was he talking about?"

Her mum sighed. "Nine raids tonight. And Mundungus Fletcher tried hexing your father when his back was turned. I don't see why they don't just arrest that man! One of those raids was at Lucius Malfoy's house, but they didn't find anything. And then your father finally noticed poor Harry, and then asked him what the function of a rubber duck was, whatever a rubber duck is."

Mystified, Ginny asked, "How can a duck be rubber?"

Her mother shook her head bemusedly. "Harry seemed to understand, and began explaining it patiently, the dear boy. Something to do with a bathtub, he said."

After Ginny finished eating her breakfast and helping her mother with the dishes, she went back upstairs to her room, which had a window looking out over the orchard. But if she sat _just_ so, she could catch a glimpse of the garden, where Harry, Ron, Fred, and George were.

Evidently Harry Potter had been taught how to de-gnome a garden by Ron or one of the twins, because he had one in his hand and was spinning it around his head. He was laughing, and when he let go, the gnome flew far over the fence. She heard the twins' muffled admiration, and Ginny couldn't help but feel a little admiration herself. She couldn't even throw it as far as that stump over there.

Some hours passed, and she tired of staying at her post by the window. She picked up a Holyhead Harpies pamphlet from her desk and flipped through its pages. _Now Recruiting New Fliers! _She giggled to herself, wondering what Ron would say if she ever told him she was enlisting for the Holyhead Harpies. _"Ginny, you can't even fly! And the Harpies? Really, Ginny? If you must try out for a Quidditch team, it should be the _Cannons_! Honestly, I'm ashamed to admit you're my sister…"_

Ginny's room was painted pink—not bright neon pink, but a soft roseate shade. While Ron's walls and ceiling were nothing but a Chudley Cannons advertising booth, Ginny's featured Gwenog Jones, beater and captain of the Holyhead Harpies. There was also a poster of the Weird Sisters, one of the most popular bands in the Wizarding World.

She tossed the pamphlet back onto her desk and sighed. In the room right above hers was a silence to which she was unaccustomed. Growing up with Fred and George, she had become used to hearing all sorts of bangs and booms emanating from their bedroom.

Suddenly, Ginny's stomach growled loudly. Rather frustrated, she frowned at her stomach and said sternly to it, "I just had three sausages!" Then she realized what she had just done. She had spoken to her stomach. Blimey, she _was_ mental. She needed to get out of her room.

Just as she opened the door, she saw Harry and Ron coming up the stairs. When she saw Harry looking at her, she gasped and closed the door quickly. She heard Ron say, "Ginny. You don't know how weird it is for her to be this shy. She never shuts up normally—"

Ginny became bright red. Had she really been so obvious of her fascination with Harry Potter? Evidently she must have been. That made two embarrassing occurrences in one day.

However, everything automatically was forgiven when she heard Harry from the room above hers say, "This is the best house I've ever been in!"

She could hardly contain her excitement, even though she knew she must._ Harry Potter likes our house! Harry Potter LIKES our house! HARRY POTTER likes our house! Harry Potter likes OUR house! Harry POTTER likes our HOUSE!_

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><p><strong>AN: **This chapter was so much fun to write. I absolutely adore Ginny's character! You'll have a little more of Harry in the next chapter, but Ginny is also going to Diagon Alley to buy her own schoolbooks and wand for the first time. Hopefully the next chapter will be up within the next month!

Reviews are to me as the Chudley Cannons are to Ron.

Cheers,

Shanthi


	2. Chez Lovegood

**A/N: **I own nothing.

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><p>Chapter II – Chez Lovegood<p>

There is a special kind of magic—more unpredictable than Charms, more complicated than Transfiguration, and more volatile than Potions—and that is the magic associated with the way someone acts around a person she likes. Ginny Weasley experienced this rather annoying form of magic multiple times during the first week that Harry Potter had stayed.

It was a sunny morning when the Weasley family first heard from Hogwarts. Ginny was with her parents in the kitchen, already eating her porridge. As soon as Harry arrived, Ginny's heart thudded in her chest, and her bowl went flying to the ground. Face burning, Ginny crawled under the table to retrieve it. She seriously considered staying under the table for the rest of the meal, but Mrs. Weasley poked her head under the table to mutter, "_Scourgify_." Immediately the contents of the bowl vanished, and Mrs. Weasley gestured to her daughter to sit back in her seat.

As she crawled back out from her hiding spot, Ginny's heart stopped—she had seen the boy sitting in the seat next to hers, and he was kindly pretending not to have noticed her face, which was as red as a beetroot.

Thankfully, Mr. Weasley made the situation less awkward by handing Harry and Ron their Hogwarts letters.

"Letters from school. Dumbledore already knows you're here, Harry. Never misses a trick, that man."

As Fred and George ambled into the kitchen, Mr. Weasley handed the twins their letters and added, "You two have them too."

For a few minutes there was silence as everyone read his or her letters. Ginny had grown up with six older brothers, so she knew the basics of what all Hogwarts letters said; she immediately zoned into the book list—the only part that changed every year:

_The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)_ by Miranda Goshawk

_Break with a Banshee_ by Gilderoy Lockhart

_Gadding with Ghouls_ by Gilderoy Lockhart

_Holidays with Hags_ by Gilderoy Lockhart

_Travels with Trolls_ by Gilderoy Lockhart

_Voyages with Vampires_ by Gilderoy Lockhart

_Wandering with Werewolves_ by Gilderoy Lockhart

_Year with the Yeti_ by Gilderoy Lockhart

_A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_ by Emeric Switch

Ginny's face grew worried. Gilderoy Lockhart was an extremely famous author whose looks were supposedly great; she knew her mother owned a great deal of his household books, but wasn't sure that she owned any of those on the booklist. She knew that the books were rather expensive, as she had gone with her mother to many a bookstore to scourge the shelves for any of Lockhart's books for a steep discount.

Fred said, peering over Harry's shoulder to read his booklist, "You've been told to get all of Lockhart's books, too! The new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher must be a fan—bet it's a witch—"

Mrs. Weasley caught his eye; Fred pretended to be busy with the marmalade. All of the Weasleys, except perhaps Mr. Weasley, knew that their mum rather fancied Gilderoy Lockhart.

George continued, "That lot won't come cheap. Lockhart's books are very expensive…"

Mrs. Weasley looked worried. "Well, we'll manage; I expect we'll be able to pick up a lot of Ginny's things secondhand…"

Harry looked at Ginny, and asked, "Oh, are you starting Hogwarts this year?"

There went her stupid heart again, beating like a drum and quite possibly just as loudly. Ginny managed to do the impossible: she nodded, blushing to the roots of her flaming hair, and, trying to regain some of her long-lost dignity, attempted to suavely put her elbow on the table and continue eating in a dignified manner. Instead, she stuck her elbow into the butter dish.

_Bugger._

Fortunately, no one saw this degeneration of her mental state except Harry—who extremely kindly pretended to have momentarily gone blind—because at that very moment, Ginny's older brother, Percy Weasley, walked into the kitchen. He was already dressed, his shiny Prefect's badge pinned to his chest.

"Morning, all," he said, quickly, "Lovely day." He sat down in the only remaining chair but jumped up again, almost immediately, pulling from underneath him an owl. It was Errol.

"Errol!" said Ron, taking the limp owl from Percy and taking a letter from under its wing. "Finally—he's got Hermione's answer. I wrote to her saying we were going to try and rescue you from the Dursleys, Harry."

He carried Errol to the owl perch but he flopped straight off again, so Ron put him on the draining board instead, muttering, "Pathetic."

Then he ripped open the letter and read it out loud. "_'Dear Ron, and Harry if you're there,_

"_'I hope everything went all right and that Harry is okay and that you didn't do anything illegal to get him out, Ron, because that would get Harry into trouble, too. I've been really worried and if Harry is all right, will you please let me know at once, but perhaps it would be better if you used a different owl because I think another delivery might finish your one off._

"_'I'm very busy with schoolwork of course'_"—"How _can_ she be!" said Ron in horror. "We're on vacation!"—"_and we're going to London next Wednesday to buy my new books. Why don't we meet in Diagon Alley?_

"_'Let me know what's happening as soon as you can. Love from Hermione.'_"

"Well that fits in nicely; we can go and get all your things then, too. What are you all up to today?" asked Mrs. Weasley.

Harry, Ron, and the twins had already decided to go to the Weasleys' paddock to practice Quidditch. Ginny was actually rather decent at the game, but none of her six brothers knew she could play, let alone fly—and what if she dropped the Quaffle and let the other team score? She didn't like to think about it.

After the boys left, Ginny's mother asked, "What's your plan for today?"

"Mum, can I go to Luna's house?"

"Can't you walk, dear? I'm doing the dishes."

"Mum…the Lovegoods live _four miles away…_"

"Oh, I'd forgotten. Why don't you send her an owl to see if she's free while I finish up the dishes?"

Ginny nodded and ran to the draining board where Errol was still lying. Prodding him awake, she asked him, "Errol, you up to flying eight miles?"

The owl hooted feebly; Ginny took the reply as a yes. She found a spare bit of parchment and a quill and hastily scribbled a note to Luna. Attaching it to Errol's leg, she whispered, "Can you take this to Luna Lovegood's house for me?"

Errol hooted, this time a little stronger, and began flapping his wings, preparing for flight. Ginny opened the window for him, and he took off towards the Lovegoods' house.

The Lovegoods were an interesting family, for lack of a better word. Luna Lovegood's mother had died not two years ago and her father, Xenophilius, had completely let himself go—in grief? freedom?—Ginny knew not. He had let his once close-cropped hair grow into a white candyfloss mess; he had abandoned his glasses in favor of a slightly squinty-eyed look. He had also started a magazine which he named _The Quibbler_, which published the conspiracy theories in which he so strongly believed.

The Lovegoods' home was shaped like a chess piece; a rook, to be precise—quite tall yet rickety-looking. The path to the house was flanked by odd plants that Luna had to identify every time Ginny visited.

As Ginny was thinking about this, Errol tapped on the window with his beak.

"Mum, she said it was okay!" called Ginny, ripping the piece of parchment from his talons and skimming through the words written in Luna's squiggly handwriting: _Yes, of course you can come over! I'll be sure to show you all the new additions to our lovely front yard. Oh! Be sure not to Floo in-Daddy's experimenting with the fireplace. You'll see what I mean when you arrive. Cheers - Luna._

"Lovely timing," commented Mrs. Weasley, "I'm just finishing up the last of the dishes. Hang on just a moment while I dry this."

As soon as Ginny's mum finished cleaning the dishes, she dried her hands with her wand and instructed Ginny to take hold of her arm. "Now Ginny, I know I tell you this every time I take you anywhere via Side-Along Apparition, but you must never—I repeat, _never—_Side-Along Apparate with anyone who doesn't seem responsible, mature, or experienced. You must never trust another person (other than me or dad, and perhaps Bill and Charlie) with your life and body. Splinching is terrifying, Ginny, and I only hope you will never mistakenly trust someone who is barely of age with the responsibility of transporting you."

As Ginny had heard this speech nearly two hundred times before, she didn't pay as much attention as she normally would have. She took her mother's arm, absently wondering as she Side-Along Apparated whether Harry was thinking of her at the moment or not. (_Probably not, though,_ she reasoned. _After all, he's got much more important things on his mind. Like Quidditch._)

Mrs. Weasley and Ginny Apparated straight in front of the gates of the large, rook-shaped house. Luna Lovegood was in her front yard, seemingly waiting, and jumped up excitedly when she saw the newcomers.

"Oh, Ginny, it's so lovely to see you again," she beamed. "You too, Mrs. Weasley."

Mrs. Weasley smiled and asked politely, "Is your father in, Luna? I don't think I ought to leave without saying hello to him, it's been quite a while since I've visited."

"Yes, I'm sure he's about here somewhere. Daddy!"

A few moments later, out from the front doors shuffled out oddball Mr. Xenophilius Lovegood. At first impression, Xenophilius looked rather like a terrifying vagabond-Ginny had felt terribly guilty upon learning that he was actually her friend's father.

"Good morning, Xenophilius!" said Mrs. Weasley.

"Oh how lovely to see you, Molly!" replied Mr. Lovegood, and the two began conversing about their daughters' upcoming first year at Hogwarts.

"Ginny!" Luna cried. "I'd so love to show you the new and improved front yard, if you'd like. There are so many enchanting plants here now!"

"I'd love to," Ginny smiled. She loved going to Luna's house. Luna was always so passionate about whatever she believed in, and it _did _feel nice to spend time with an actual girl, however eccentric.

They started at the gate, and as they followed the zigzag path, Luna pointed out every plant.

"Mum used to love Snargaluffs, so even though they're really hard to take care of, we didn't take them down," she said softly. Ginny knew better than to comment about how she detested Snargaluff pods, so she just nodded quietly.

"I haven't told you anything about what happened to my mum, have I?" Luna asked after a short pause.

Ginny shook her head. "I...I didn't want to ask."

Luna nodded. "That was very tactful of you, Ginny. Most people aren't... well, I haven't talked about this with anyone. Except Daddy, I mean. But I trust you, and I know you won't hurt me just because I'm a little strange."

Ginny was touched. She had never had many girl friends-she usually just spent time with her older brothers' friends; she found it much easier than trying to make friends of her own. Impulsively, she reached for Luna's hand and squeezed it. "I won't tell anyone, Luna, not if you don't want me to."

Luna smiled sadly and said, "I was nine...it was just last year. Last January, actually. She loved experimenting with potions...she was quite amazing with them. She knew every potion in the book, but that specific day... she decided it wasn't enough. She wanted to invent a potion. It exploded...I was at school, at Muggle school, and Daddy was in the backyard harvesting the Dirigible Plums, and I keep thinking that if I'd been home..."

Ginny shook her head violently. "Luna, you know thinking about these things will only make you feel worse. Don't think that way. It's not your fault, I promise."

Luna was tearing up, but she gave Ginny a watery smile. "Thank you. I think you're the best friend I've had, ever."

Ginny smiled. "I can say the same, Luna."

Luna turned away, and Ginny pretended not to notice her wiping away stray tears. To quickly change the subject, her eyes lit on the first thing she saw-a plant.

"Are—are these the Gurdyroot plants you bought last year?" Ginny cried, as Luna turned around and nodded. "But they've tripled in size!"

They made small talk about the other plants in the front yard—Luna and Ginny had already made up their minds to swap notes about all the interesting plants they would learn about in Herbology.

"Luna, I nearly forgot to tell you! Guess who's staying at the Burrow?"

"Who?"

"_Harry. James. Potter._"

"Oh! You're so lucky, it's like if Newt Scamander came over and stayed with my family at my house! Harry Potter has saved the world twice in the past twelve years..."

Ginny furtively looked around, and after seeing that nobody was around, said, "Luna, I think I've got a bit of a thing for him. This is strictly confidential. You must never tell anyone."

Luna smiled and said, "Of course not. Don't worry, if Newt Scamander stayed with me, I'd probably fancy him, too."

Ginny giggled. "Luna, Newt Scamander is probably fifty."

"Fine, his son then! Or grandson."

The two giggled, and Ginny thanked her lucky stars that a girl lived close enough to her to save her from the six brothers who frequently enjoyed humiliating her. (_Not that I need any help humiliating myself,_ reminded the small voice in the back of Ginny's head.)

But when Ginny was with her best friend, it didn't seem to matter.

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><p><strong>AN: **I imagined Luna's birthday to be in February. So in January when her mother died, Luna was nine, that February she turned 10, and in February of the next year (which is the year we are in), she turned 11, if that makes some sense. Just clarifying! Thank you to my proofreader and tumblr user _likejameslovedlily _for pointing the potential confusion out to me :).


	3. Adventures in Diagon Alley

**A/N: I know it's been a long time since I've updated! Hopefully my next chapter lives up to the previous ones~**

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><p>The following Wednesday, Ginny's mother woke everybody up early and hastily fed each Weasley around half a dozen bacon sandwiches. After Ginny had finished eating, she walked over to the fireplace, around which the rest of the Weasleys and Harry were gathered. Mrs. Weasley offered the flowerpot of Floo powder to Harry first.<p>

"W-what am I supposed to do?" he stammered. Ginny knew at once that Harry had no idea of what to do with the green powder.

"Harry's never traveled by Floo powder before!" Ron exclaimed. Then, as an afterthought: "Sorry, Harry, I forgot."

Ginny refrained from rolling her eyes at her stupid brother as Fred demonstrated, quickly grabbing a pinch of powder from the pot. Stepping into the fireplace and grinning widely at Harry's shock, he threw the powder into the flames and said clearly, "Diagon Alley!" Fred disappeared in a flash of bright light.

George went next, followed by Mr. Weasley, and then it was Harry's turn. He inhaled a lungful of smoke, and choked, "D-Diagon Alley!"

"Oh dear," Mr. Weasley shook her head. "That didn't sound very clear at all."

Ron took the Floo powder. Ginny followed, and when she reached Diagon Alley, she didn't see Harry anywhere. Mrs. Weasley followed her out of the fire.

"Mum, I don't know where Harry is," Ron said, worried.

After what felt like hours, Ron, Fred, George, Ginny, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley found Harry in front of Gringotts, talking to Hagrid—the Keeper of Keys and gamekeeper at Hogwarts—and Hermione Granger, Harry and Ron's best friend from school.

"Harry!"

Mrs. Weasley gave Harry a big hug; he had ended up in Knockturn Alley, a street famed for its support of the Dark Arts.

"Guess who I saw in Borgin and Burkes'?" Harry said as they climbed the steps. "Malfoy and his father—"

Ginny's father interrupted sharply, "Did Lucius Malfoy buy anything?"

"No, he was selling—"

"So he's worried. Oh, I'd love to get Lucius Malfoy for something…"

Mrs. Weasley's tone was warning. "You be careful, Arthur, that family's trouble. Don't go biting off more than you can chew—"

"So you don't think I'm a match for Lucius Malfoy, eh?" demanded Mr. Weasley.

He was, rather thankfully, distracted by Hermione Granger's parents, who were shyly standing at the counter that ran along the great marble hall, exchanging Muggle money into wizarding money. They were waiting nervously for Hermione to introduce them.

"But you're Muggles! We must have a drink! What's that you've got there? Oh, you're exchanging Muggle money! Molly, look!" He pointed excitedly at the ten-pound notes in Mr. Granger's hand. Ron caught Ginny's eye as they both tried to conceal their giggles.

The Weasleys, Harry, and the goblin all piled into one of the carts. As it rolled along the little railway tracks in the narrow stone passageway, the cart suddenly went downhill. Ginny's eyes stung as the cold air rushed past them, but she kept them wide open.

"What's a stalagmite and what's a stalactite?" Ron asked.

Harry answered. "I'm not sure—I asked Hagrid in my first year but I don't remember. What I do remember is that he was too sick to speak."

They finally reached the Weasleys' vault. Mrs. Weasley blushed and hastily gathered everything in the vault—one Galleon and a small pile of Sickles—into a small bag and told the goblin to take them to Harry's vault.

When they reached his vault, Ginny saw that _Harry _was blushing. Seemingly attempting to hide his money, he hastily withdrew some and returned to the cart. The goblin led the cart back to the marble hall where Hermione was waiting.

"We'll all meet at Flourish and Blotts in an hour to buy your schoolbooks," Mrs. Weasley said. "_And not one step down Knockturn Alley_!" she shouted to the twins' retreating backs. She shook her head exasperatedly when they waved her off.

Ron and Harry walked in a different direction with Hermione. Mrs Weasley accompanied Ginny to buy her new robes.

Ginny had been to Diagon Alley many times before, but it never ceased to amaze her. Ginny's mother and she walked into the secondhand robe shop. The witch at the counter smiled and said teasingly, "Another child, Molly?"

Mrs Weasley laughed. "And the last. Ginny, this is Daphne." Ginny waved.

"Daphne, this is Ginny, my only daughter. It's so exciting finally to be able to buy girls robes for her. Merlin only knows how exhausted I am of buying boys' robes after six of them."

The witch named Daphne smiled. "Oh I love fixing robes for first years! I've got another one over here. Come along, dearest. This is Miss Lovegood. You two chat while I go to the back to finish her robes."

Ginny's heart leapt. _Luna! _How could she not have known that her best friend was coming to Diagon Alley on the same day as herself?

"Luna!" Ginny grinned as Daphne retreated into the back.

"Ginny?" Luna turned around, and her eyes turned big and bright. "I didn't know you were going to be here today!"

"Neither did I. I was so afraid of meeting a bully, or a mermaid or something. Imagine if I'd met a centaur?"

Luna smiled. "That wouldn't be too strange, centaurs are extremely wise creatures. I'd suppose they'd be in Ravenclaw."

"But what about that one Decree? I think it says that mythical creatures can't go to Hogwarts."

"Pity. Although, I think there ought to be many half-wizards at Hogwarts. _I think they're in disguise,_" Luna whispered.

Ginny laughed. "If we find a half-wizard, I will give you anything in the world that you want."

"If we find a half-wizard, Ginny Weasley, you must give me a Wailing Willowweed."

"Sure," Ginny smirked. "And if by our seventh year we haven't found one, Luna Lovegood, you're giving me a certificate saying _Ginny Weasley Is Always Right_, and ten Galleons for good measure."

At that moment, Daphne came back. "Miss Lovegood, I've got your robes, my dear. Now, Miss Weasley, it's your turn."

The measurements were taken and the robes fixed. Ginny and her mum walked out of the store towards the Apothecary, where Ginny got her potions ingredients and a new cauldron. Then they went to Ollivander's to get her a new wand.

Ginny had been inside the wand shop at least four times before, but she had been too young to properly remember how scary Mr. Ollivander was.

As soon as he saw her, he peered carefully into her face, and said, "I wondered when I would be seeing you, Miss Weasley."

Ginny didn't know what to say.

"Mr. Ollivander, it's so lovely to see you again," Ginny's mother said warmly. Ollivander turned away from Ginny and towards her mother.

"Quite so, Molly. I trust your wand is in top condition?"

"Yes, sir." Mrs. Weasley procured her wand and handed it to him. He examined it, and a small smile spread on his face.

"Twenty-plus years and still in tip-top condition!" Mrs. Weasley said proudly. Ollivander nodded approvingly.

"Now, to your youngest daughter." Ollivander swiftly turned around and walked to the back room. He spent a few minutes looking through multiple boxes, then picked one up and walked back to the desk. He handed it to Ginny, saying, "Try this—12 inches, willow, very swishy. Dragon heartstring."

Excited, Ginny waved the wand, but nothing happened.

"Not to worry, not to worry..."

He walked to another section of the store, rummaged around for a few minutes, and brought out another box. "Holly and unicorn hair, 10 inches, quite whippy."

Nothing happened, but Ollivander didn't feel or look dismayed.

"Ah, I thought as much. Now let me see..."

After multiple more failed attempts, Ollivander looked under his desk and brought out yet another wand box. "Ah, I've a good feeling about this one. Holly and unicorn tail hair, eight point five inches, nice and supple."

Ginny waved the wand and there was sudden warmth in her fingers. Her hair blew around her face. She raised the wand above her head and waved it, and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like fireworks.

"Ah, yes! How wonderful."

Ginny gave Ollivander the seventeen sickles she owed for the wand and waved goodbye as Mrs. Weasley called her.

"Ginny! Ginny, dear! We have to go to Flourish and Blotts right now. We're late!"

Ginny ran after her mother and the two walked across the street towards the bookstore. As they approached the bookstore, they saw a large banner stretched across the whole upper windows:

GILDEROY LOCKHART

_will be signing copies of his autobiography_

MAGICAL ME

_today 12:30 P.M. to 4:30 P.M._

"It's Gilderoy Lockhart!" said her mum, breathlessly patting her hair.

They went inside and found themselves in a large bookshop which had pictures of Gilderoy Lockhart stuck on every wall. The bookshop was very crowded with not only school students but also with people queuing up for signed copies of Lockhart's new book.

Mr. Weasley, Fred, George, Percy and Mr. and Mrs. Granger were already there. Percy called, "Over here!"

Ginny and her mother walked towards them and stood in line and at just that moment, Harry, Ron and Hermione arrived, laden with school supplies.

"Oh, there you are, good. We'll be able to see him in a minute!" Mrs. Weasley was as close to squealing as Ginny had ever seen. She seemed to think that everyone shared her enthusiasm about meeting the famous Gilderoy Lockhart. (Ginny believed that Harry was _much _more famous, and _much _more worth knowing.)

Gilderoy Lockhart came slowly into view, seated at a table which was surrounded by pictures of himself, all winking and wearing a big grin. Multiple sets of his pearly white teeth flashed dazzlingly at the crowd. The real Lockhart was wearing robes of forget-me-not blue which were the exact same color as his eyes, his wavy hair was almost all hidden by a wizards hat set at a jaunty angle. A short, cross-looking old man was jumping around taking photographs with a large black camera that was releasing purple puffs of smoke with every blinding flash.

Ron yelled in pain—apparently the cameraman had stepped on his foot. Instead of apologizing, he said to Ron, "Out of the way, there, this is for the _Daily Prophet_—"

"Big deal," said Ron, who was rubbing his foot.

Gilderoy Lockhart heard him. He looked at Ron—then he saw Harry. Then he practically shouted, "It _can't _be Harry Potter?"

Lockhart dived forward, grabbed Harry's arm, and pulled him up front. The grumpy cameraman took picture after picture. Harry was as red as Ginny had been when she had buttered her elbow.

"Ladies and gentlemen, what an extraordinary moment this is! The perfect moment for me to make a little announcement I've been sitting on for some time! When young Harry here stepped into Flourish and Blotts today, he only wanted to buy my autobiography—which I shall be happy to present him now, free of charge—he had no idea that he would shortly be getting much, much more than my book, _Magical Me_. He and his schoolmates, will, in fact, be getting the real magical me. Yes, ladies and gentlemen. I have great pleasure and pride in announcing that this September, I will be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"

Ron, Fred and George gasped in horror, Percy dropped his books on the floor; however, Mrs. Weasley and Hermione's eyes lit up, excited. Ginny exchanged a look of horror with her father, who said to her, "A tutor, perhaps, would be wise…"

Lockhart gave Harry a large case full of every single book he had ever written. Harry staggered back towards the Weasleys and Grangers under the weight of the books, still as red as a brick.

Harry dropped the books into Ginny's cauldron, saying, "You have these—I'll buy my own—"

Ginny was speechless. She knew that Harry didn't want them, and he didn't want to get them for free, and all, but _giving_ them to her? Ginny didn't know that she should accept them, but before she could refuse, a sneering, drawling voice said, "Bet you loved that, didn't you Potter? Famous Harry Potter can't even go into a _bookshop _without making the front page!"

Ginny knew who he was—he was Draco Malfoy, the boy who hated Harry and the Weasleys.

Maybe it was her anger at Lockhart for putting Harry on the spot, maybe it was her inherent hatred for the Malfoys, or maybe it was a combination of both; whatever the reason was, Ginny suddenly spoke for the first time in front of Harry, glaring daggers at Malfoy, "Leave him alone, he didn't want all that!"

"Potter, you've got yourself a _girlfriend_!" Malfoy drawled. Ginny flushed scarlet. _Would someone please dig me a hole so I can go die in it please thank you goodbye. _

Harry didn't deign a reply. Ron and Hermione fought their way over, both clutching stacks of Lockhart's books.

"Oh, it's you," said Ron, looking at Malfoy as if he was something unpleasant on the sole of his shoe. "Bet you're surprised to see Harry here, eh?"

"Not as surprised as I am to see you in a bookshop, Weasley," retorted Malfoy. "I suppose your parents will go hungry for a month to pay for all of those."

Ron's face turned as red as Ginny's. He dropped his books into the cauldron and started towards Malfoy, but Harry and Hermione grabbed the back of his jacket.

"Ron! What are you doing? It's too crowded here, let's go outside!" said Mr. Weasley, struggling over with Fred and George.

"Well, well, well—Arthur Weasley." It was Mr. Malfoy.

"Lucius," nodded Mr. Weasley curtly.

"Busy time at the Ministry, I hear. All those raids…I hope they're paying you overtime?" said Mr. Malfoy, reaching into Ginny's cauldron.

From amidst the glossy Lockhart books, he brought out a very old, very battered copy of _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_ which had once belonged to Bill.

"Obviously not. Dear me, what is the use of being a disgrace to the name of a wizard if they don't even pay you well for it?"

Mr. Weasley flushed. "We have a _very_different idea of what disgraces the name of a wizard, Malfoy," he said.

"Clearly." _Pause_. "The company you keep, Weasley…and I thought your family could sink no lower—"

There was a thud of metal as Ginny's cauldron went flying; Mr. Weasley had thrown himself on Mr. Malfoy, knocking him backwards into a bookshelf.

Fred, George, Ginny and Ron yelled, "Get him dad!" and Mrs. Weasley was shrieking, "NO, Arthur, NO!" while Hermione shouted "Mr. Weasley, no!" Percy shook his head disapprovingly while the Grangers watched, looking terrified.

"Gentlemen, please—please!" cried the assistant to no avail, and then, Hagrid's voice came, louder than the rest, "Break it up, there, gents, break it up—"

Hagrid pulled Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy apart.

Mr. Malfoy was still holding Ginny's old Transfiguration book. He shoved it at her, his eyes glittering with malice, and said, "Here, girl—take your book—it's the best your father can give you—"

He beckoned to Draco and pulled him out of the shop.

Ginny had never before felt so scared by a person.

"Yeh shoulda ignored him, Arthur. Rotten ter the core, the whole family, everyone knows that—no Malfoy's worth listenin' ter—bad blood, that's what it is—come on, now—let's get outta here."

They hurried up the street, the Grangers shaking with fright. Mrs. Weasley was beside herself with fury. "A fine example to set for your children…_brawling_in public…what Gilderoy Lockhart must've thought!—"

Fred interrupted. "He was pleased. Didn't you hear him as we were leaving? He was asking that bloke from the _Daily Prophet _if he'd be able to work that fight into the report—said it was all publicity—"

They went to the fireplace in the Leaky Cauldron, subdued. The Weasleys and Harry would be traveling to the Burrow using Floo powder. They said goodbye to the Grangers, who were going by Muggle transportation.

Ginny saw Harry take off his glasses and put them into his pocket before helping himself to some Floo Powder. _I'm sure it isn't his favorite way to travel_, thought Ginny.

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><p><strong>AN: Next chapter should be hopefully up within a week. Reviews are like hot chocolate on a cold rainy day!**


	4. The Hogwarts Express

**A/N:** Okay, I lied when I said it would be up in the next week (about half a year ago). But I had college. And I was sick. And stuff. And I'm sorry I'm bad at excuses I'm so sorry you had to wait so long but here is the chapter and I hope you enjoy it. It was a difficult one to write. Special thanks to Ayesha and Katie for proofreading it for me, ily babes.

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><p>Days passed and before everyone knew it, it was the eve of the day the Weasleys and Harry would leave to Hogwarts. Each child was packing, only leaving their room to demand something back from Fred or George.<p>

Ginny's trunk had once belonged to Bill. Actually, nearly everything she owned had belonged to somebody else at some point. Her copies of _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_ and _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1_ had been passed down from Bill to each successive Weasley. (Fred and George had decided to share.) The Lockhart books had been Harry's—even if only for a second.

Ginny dusted off the jacket of the Lockhart books. Apparently the fight between her father and Mr. Malfoy had caused rubble to fly everywhere. She rummaged around in the cauldron to pull out Bill's old books, but her hands closed around a smaller book. Curious, she withdrew it.

It was a small, thin book with a shabby, black cover bearing the year _1942._ She flipped the book over. _Vauxhall Road, London._ She opened the book to the first page. In beautiful handwriting was written _T. M. Riddle._ The rest of the book was blank.

It seemed to be some sort of diary. Perhaps her parents had bought it for her to use at Hogwarts? What a lovely surprise! Ginny made a mental note to remember to thank her parents for the gift.

She pulled out a quill and dipped it in ink, crossing out the _T.M. Riddle _and replacing it with her name in her best handwriting. Before she was able to write her first entry in the diary, a knock sounded at the door. She hurriedly stuffed the diary under her mattress.

"Come in!" she shouted.

It was Ron.

"Hey, Ginny, how're you?" he asked.

"Nervous."

"Hey, at least you've got some friends already."

"Who?"

"Well you've got me, haven't you? And Fred and George, and Percy. And isn't that Loony bird starting this year too?"

"Ron, don't call her a Loony bird, her name is _Luna_, and yes, she is starting this year. I'm nervous because oh my goodness, Ron, what if I'm not a Gryffindor? I'll probably be a Hufflepuff."

Ron smirked. "You, the only person Fred and George are afraid of, a Hufflepuff? You, the girl who beat up that bloke for pulling Gloria Tennyson's hair, a Hufflepuff? C'mon Ginny, you know you're going to be a Gryffindor, everyone in our family is, anyway."

"Everybody except Hufflepuff Horace, you know that."

"Shh, we don't talk about him."

Ginny rolled her eyes, but laughed. Hufflepuff Horace Weasley was the kindest, sweetest uncle you would ever meet, and everyone knew that.

"Blimey, Ginny," Ron said. "I hate the bloody Holyhead Harpies all over the walls. Why don't you decorate your room with a _good _team? Something like…oh, I don't know…the _Chudley Cannons_…"

"No of course not! Merlin, Ron, haven't you _seen_ the Harpies in action? Gwenog Jones and her brilliant Beating?"

"They're an all-girls team, though…"

"And that's a problem because…" Ginny said, warning Ron not to continue. He either didn't notice or didn't care, and went on.

"Girls don't have as much stamina, as much power, to play Quidditch!"

"Are you kidding me, Ron! Then explain to me how the Harpies beat the Wimbourne Wasps? They even beat the _Heidelberg Harriers_! Merlin, Ron, don't be so rude. If you don't believe girls can play well, let's have a match right now!"

Ron snickered. "You got a lot of nerve saying that, seeing as you don't even know how to fly."

Ginny rolled her eyes again. Of course, Ron didn't know that she'd been sneaking into the broom closet to teach herself to fly since she was six years old. "Alright then, Ron, next summer, when I'm good at flying, we're having a match."

Ron grinned. "If you insist."

"I'm telling mum you insulted every single girl on the planet."

Ron groaned. "Ginny, don't be a squealer…"

"MUUUUM!" Ginny yelled. Ron tackled her and attempted to cover her mouth. Within no time at all, the fight escalated to a game of Muggle boxing.

The door opened and their mother stuck her head into the room. "Ginny, did you call me? Dinner's ready, if the two of you have finished fighting."

Ron jumped up eagerly and ran upstairs to his room to get Harry. Ginny shot down the stairs like a Nimbus 2001—the latest model.

Mrs. Weasley had conjured up a most delicious dinner that included all of Harry's favorite things to eat, ending with his favorite dessert, a lip-smacking treacle pudding. Fred and George rounded off the last evening of Ginny's pre-Hogwarts life by bursting a set of Filibuster's Fireworks continued to bounce around the room for at least half an hour afterwards. Then they all drank a last cup of hot chocolate and it was time for bed.

Ginny was extraordinarily nervous for the next day, and realized at that moment how much she would miss the cozy magic of the Burrow. But Hogwarts would be equally, if not more magical, and she would finally make friends who weren't redheaded boys! She could talk to actual girls who weren't her mum. It would be a refreshing change. She thought of her parents and sighed because she would miss them terribly, but it would be nice to have freedom. (At least, as much freedom as Percy would allow.) Ginny finally fell asleep quite late, after tossing and turning for hours.

The next morning, Mrs. Weasley woke everyone up before dawn. Ginny was horribly tired as she muddled through the routine of dressing and eating breakfast.

Packing the car took hours. By the time the family and Harry finally left, the sun was properly up in the sky. Ten minutes on the road, George said that he had forgotten his box of Filibuster Fireworks. They turned back to the Burrow, and George ran up to his room, returning a moment later with a box in his hand. Five minutes later, they stopped outside the house again because Fred had forgotten his broomstick (and he was the Beater on the Gryffindor Quidditch team—his broom was quite important).

They had almost reached the highway when Ginny suddenly remembered that she had left her new diary at home. After giving a shriek that ruffled Hedwig's, Errol's, and Hermes' feathers, they stopped once again outside the house and Ginny ran upstairs to her room. She searched everywhere and finally found it under her mattress. When the Weasleys finally reached King's Cross Station, it was quarter-to-eleven.

It only took a few minutes to find platforms nine and ten. Percy went first, Mr. Weasley went second, Fred and George followed, and Ginny went with Mrs. Weasley. (She felt so mortified—why was her mother holding her hand like she was a three-year-old?) Harry and Ron were to follow.

Ginny went through the barrier and hugged her mother and father goodbye. She quickly boarded the train and sat down in an empty compartment, wondering where Luna could be.

A few minutes after the Hogwarts Express had started moving, Hermione Granger looked into the compartment.

"Do you mind if I sit here? Everywhere else is full."

"No problem," Ginny replied. "I've been waiting for Harry and Ron. Have you seen them anywhere?"

Hermione's expression was worried. She shook her head.

Ginny said, "They were supposed to come through the barrier after Mum and me, but I don't remember seeing them anywhere…"

Hermione groaned. "If they've done something illegal again I'm going to _murder_ them!"

The girls sat in silence for a few minutes until Hermione suggested that the two of them change into their robes. As soon as they reentered their compartment, a jolly, plump lady pushed her food trolley by their compartment.

"Anything off the trolley, dears?" she asked.

Ginny glanced at her corned beef sandwich, made a face, and shook her head. Hermione bought two Chocolate Frogs and handed one to Ginny, who grinned in gratitude and quickly unwrapped the sweet. She turned over her wizard's card. _Godric Gryffindor._

"You're going to be a Gryffindor," Hermione remarked, glancing at the card.

"I was just talking about this to Ron. I'm probably going to be a Hufflepuff, I'm not particularly good at anything."

"Whoever told you that? I'm sure you're good at a lot of things. Fred and George are exceptionally clever…even though they don't try as well as they should at school. Percy's responsible and smart. And Ron, for all his faults, is quite loyal and brave. Why, last year he stood up to McGonagall's life-sized chess set and was willing to risk his life to save me and Harry!"

"But that's the thing, isn't it?" sighed Ginny. "Everybody expects me to be adventurous, like Bill or Charlie, or responsible, like Percy, or hilarious, like Fred and George, or loyal and brave, like Ron. But I'm Ginny and I don't quite know what I am."

"Don't worry about it, Ginny," said Hermione kindly. "You'll figure it out. I felt the same way when I first came to Hogwarts. I didn't know anybody at all—"

Hermione was interrupted by a loud banging on the compartment door. The two girls jumped as Draco Malfoy barged in, flanked by his two cronies who could be none other than Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle.

"Weasley, don't tell me you bought that Chocolate Frog? Buying all those books must have made your family starve for at least a month."

"Ignore him," muttered Hermione, noticing Ginny's ears turn pink with frustration.

"Oh, but I forgot…your little boyfriend the Scar-head gave you those books, didn't he? You Weasleys, always _taking _and never giving back…"

Ginny and Hermione stood up, Ginny to punch Malfoy in the stomach, and Hermione to stop Ginny from doing just that.

"Shut up, Malfoy," said Hermione, warningly. "Ginny, just ignore him."

"Ignoring me would simply be cowardly."

Ginny was struggling to get loose from Hermione's grip.

"Let me go—I want to show him—cowardly, my _arse_—we aren't thieves—Scar-head—_he's not my boyfriend_—" Ginny was sputtering with rage, and her face had turned cherry-red. She managed to break free of Hermione's grip. Hermione shouted at Ginny to stop ("No, Ginny—NO!") but Ginny didn't take heed.

During this uproar, Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas and Neville Longbottom entered the compartment. They stopped, thoroughly taken aback by the scene that met their eye: tiny first-year Ginny Weasley had punched bully Draco Malfoy in the face, and his eye was quickly beginning to swell up.

Neville, Seamus and Dean burst into applause and cheers as Malfoy ran out of the compartment, whimpering.

Ginny blushed. "He insulted my family, and Harry Potter.'

Seamus Finnigan said, "Aren't you Ron Weasley's little sister?"

When Ginny nodded, he continued, "You look exactly like him when he's angry at something."

Ginny smiled uncertainly, but it vanished as Neville asked, "Uh, d'you know where Harry and Ron are?"

Hermione looked worried again and flopped helplessly onto the train seat. "No! They're not in any of the compartments I've searched! I was searching everywhere for them so I could sit with them but…" Her voice trailed off.

Dean said, "Well, there's a rumor going around saying that they're coming to school by a flying car!"

Ginny's heart stopped beating. The car—oh, no, the car, the flying Ford Anglia that dad had bewitched! The one the Weasleys had driven to the platform! _Oh no…_

"Who on earth started that rumor?" said Hermione, confused.

"Fred and George did."

Ginny's shock must have showed on her face, because Hermione asked, "You don't have a flying car, do you?"

Ginny nodded. Hermione said, "Well, it's just a rumor. I hope it's not true, though…"

Neville, Dean and Seamus congratulated Ginny once more on her spectacular punch and left the compartment.

Ginny looked at Hermione after the boys left and said, "Ron, Fred and George took the flying Ford Anglia to Harry's house to pick him up. And today, on our way to King's Cross, we went in the car and Mum and Dad left the car in the Muggle parking lot and…"

Hermione said angrily, "They probably missed the train and took the car! Merlin, do you _know _how illegal that is? And here I was, hoping for a _normal_ year. I suppose, being best friends with Harry Potter, actually _having_ a normal year would be abnormal."

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><p><strong>AN:** Yeah for some reason, this chapter was really hard. Oh well.

Reviews are sunshine on a cloudy day.

Cheers, Shanthi


	5. The Very Secret Diary

**A/N**: It's been almost a year. I have no excuses. I have not even one. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Forgive me. I hope this chapter makes up for it. I'm quite proud of it.

One thing: I know Romilda Vane is canonically supposed to be a year below Ginny, but this just fits in my story much better. This story is mostly canon, okay. I promise.

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><p>After a few hours had lapsed, the Hogwarts Express rolled into the Hogsmeade station. Ginny quickly jumped out of the train compartment, closely followed by Hermione. It was raining torrents, so the two girls ran and took shelter under an awning. Hermione began scanning the crowd for any familiar faces.<p>

"Oh, there's Hagrid!" she said, pointing at a giant man covered in a hairy moleskin cloak who was shouting, "Firs' years! Firs' years, over here!"

"I'll see you at Sorting!" Hermione called as Ginny ran towards him.

Next to Hagrid was Luna Lovegood, whose face broke into a smile upon seeing Ginny. "Ginny! I didn't see you all through the train ride! Where were you sitting?"

"At the back with Hermione Granger, she's one of Ron's friends," said Ginny.

"I'm so pleased you made a new friend, but I do believe I've discovered someone who didn't like me very much. His name was John Harper, and he was terribly rude. He insulted Daddy's magazine."

"While I was talking to Hermione, Draco Malfoy and his other Slytherin friends came into our compartment."

Ginny explained to Luna how she had punched him in the eye, and Luna cocked her head to the side. "I'm not sure that was the wisest thing for you to do. He just wanted to irritate you, you know. You fell into his trap."

"I know," sighed Ginny. "Oh well. Hey, how d'you think we're going to be sorted? Fred told me it was a test which hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."

"A test?"

"Oh don't worry, I think Fred was joking."

"I wouldn't mind a test so much. I just hope it's not in front of everybody."

Soon all the first years were lined up near Hagrid. He led the students to a large lake.

"Where are we going?" asked a small boy with a squeaky voice.

"We're goin' ter Hogwarts," replied Hagrid. "No more'n four ter a boat!"

Ginny, Luna, the tiny little boy with the squeaky voice and a black-haired girl climbed into a boat. At the back of her mind, Ginny had a feeling that something was wrong. Where on earth were Harry and Ron? Were they okay, or were they dead? Shuddering, she quickly pushed the morbid thought out of her head and focused on the beautiful—albeit wet—surroundings.

Finally, they reached the castle. Hagrid helped each child out of the boat and searched them for any left-behind belongings. After returning a wand, a boot, and an umbrella, he knocked on the door of Hogwarts. A prim witch with her hair in a tight bun opened the door.

"I've got the firs' years, Professor McGonagall," he said.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here," she replied.

She led them in a line through the Great Hall. Its ceiling was bewitched to look like the sky above—dark, gloomy, gray, and wet. She led them past the four house tables and the High Table where the teachers sat. At one of the house tables, Ginny saw Hermione smiling encouragingly at her. She smiled nervously back and waved at her brothers who were at the same table. Harry and Ron were nowhere to be seen.

Ginny, Luna and the other first years were led to a chamber beyond the High Table, at which there was one empty seat.

Professor McGonagall said, "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room."

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours."

She led them back to the Great Hall.

Noticing that everyone was looking at the hat, Ginny looked at it too. Suddenly it burst into song.

_"I know I look bedraggled_

_But don't judge me too fast_

_Put me on atop your head_

_I'll speak what's not been asked._

_I Sort each of you children_

_Into four houses old_

_Silver, green, yellow, black_

_Bronze, blue, red and gold_

_If you belong in Slytherin_

_You'll know your foes from friends,_

_The Slytherins use any means_

_To achieve their ends._

_You might belong to Hufflepuff_

_If you are kind and faithful_

_Where loyalty is everything_

_And almost none is hateful._

_Or steadfast smart old Ravenclaw_

_If learning's your forte_

_No job's too hard, no task undone_

_And school's not work, it's play._

_Or else, you are a Gryffindor_

_If what you value best_

_Is bravery above all else_

_And courage leaves you impressed._

_So put me on and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be_

_Try me on and you'll do well_

_In the house I guarantee."_

The whole school burst into applause. Ginny sighed with relief. "So we just need to put on the hat? I'll kill Fred; he was going on about wrestling a troll!"

Professor McGonagall said, "Now when I call your name, come up and put on the hat…Alban, Bob!"

A small, short boy with pig-like eyes and blonde hair came up and put the hat on his head. The hat considered for some time, and then said, "SLYTHERIN!"

The table to the extreme left burst into applause.

"Broncita, Madeleine!"

A girl with black hair, glasses and two plaits nervously put the hat on her head.

"_RAVENCLAW_!"

The table next to the Slytherin Table burst into applause.

"Brown, Lilac!"

"_GRYFFINDOR_!"

The table to the extreme right burst into applause; Lilac Brown was the first Gryffindor in the batch of first years. She squealed excitedly and sat next to a girl who looked incredibly like herself.

"Creevey, Colin!"

The mousy-haired boy with the squeaky voice stepped up and put the hat on his head. "_GRYFFINDOR_!" shouted the hat and young Colin ran and sat down at the Gryffindor table.

"Cadwaller, Derek!"

"_HUFFLEPUFF_!" shouted the Hat.

The table in between the Ravenclaw and the Gryffindor tables burst into applause.

"Fawcett, Sierra!"

"_RAVENCLAW_!"

"Greengrass, Daphne!"

"_SLYTHERIN_!"

"Harper, John!"

"_SLYTHERIN_!"

The Sorting Ceremony was long and tedious. Ginny found her attention slipping, only to notice when McGonagall called out, "Lovegood, Luna!"

Luna stepped up, looking frightened. She went up and put the hat on her head.

"_RAVENCLAW_!"

Ginny clapped heartily as Luna walked towards the Ravenclaw table. Luna would make a perfect Ravenclaw, she was so fascinated and knowledgeable about strange and interesting things.

"Smith, Zacharias!"

"_HUFFLEPUFF!_"

Ginny impatiently glanced towards the Gryffindor table. Still no Harry and Ron…was it true that they went to school in the flying Ford Anglia?

"Vane, Romilda!"

"_GRYFFINDOR!_"

And then—suddenly—

"Weasley, Ginny!"

Ginny felt a mixture of terror and relief flood through her body. She made her way slowly to the hat and put it on her head. The hat said, "Ah, another Weasley. I know just what to do with you…_GRYFFINDOR_!" He shouted the last word out for the school to hear.

She sighed, relieved, and, smiling happily, saw Fred, George, Percy, and Hermione clapping and cheering for her. But still, Ron and Harry were not there.

Ginny sat down next to Hermione and Lilac Brown, who was sitting with her second-year sister, Lavender. "They're still not here?" asked Ginny.

Hermione shook her head but before she could say anything else, Professor Dumbledore stood up and said, "Welcome all students, new and old! Let's not waste time on speeches now. Let the feast begin!"

Everyone laughed appreciatively and the food magically appeared on the golden plates on the house tables.

A sudden movement caught her eye and she glanced up at the High Table to see Dumbledore, McGonagall, and a sallow, greasy-haired man leaving their dinners. Ginny could only assume that he was Professor Snape, the most unpleasant Potions' master.

She nudged Hermione and pointed to the three retreating backs.

Hermione looked alarmed. "That's not a good sign at all."

She tore her glance away from the High Table after hearing Lavender Brown call her name. "Hermione! Where're Ron and Harry? Seamus and Dean told me that they arrived in a flying car, but—"

Her friend Parvati Patil interrupted. "But if they did, they should be at school by now, and I don't see them anywhere."

Hermione had surpassed worry and was beginning to get furious. "If they did take a flying car, they have not only McGonagall, Snape, and Dumbledore to pass, but me, too."

Any living person would have been terrified.

Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape returned to the High Table in the middle of the feast. After the crowd had finished eating, Dumbledore stood up. "Now, before I send you all off to bed, I would like to introduce a new addition to our staff. Please welcome Mr. Gilderoy Lockhart who has sportingly agreed to be our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher!"

There was a burst of applause, from most of the girls in the room. Ginny didn't clap. She was still remembering Harry's red face in Flourish and Blotts.

"And…that, I think, is all. Prefects kindly show the new students to their dormitories. Chop chop!"

Percy was in his element. "Follow me, first years."

Ginny was right behind her brother, humiliated because he insisted on holding her hand (in front of all of her classmates too!) Walking next to her was the squeaky boy in Gryffindor—Colin Creevey, who held a camera eagerly in his hand.

The students followed Percy up to the seventh floor. They arrived to an oil painting of a very fat lady in a pink silk dress.

"Password," the Fat Lady asked.

"You have to tell her the password, or else she won't let you in. Wattlebird," Percy added, "is the password right now. You have to remember it or you won't be let in." The painting opened.

They all filed through the portrait-hole. Ginny found herself in a large, circular room with two spiral staircases going upstairs.

"The boys' dormitories are upstairs and to the right, and girls', same to the left."

Then Percy left the common room.

"Ginny!" called a pair of voices. Turning towards the fireplace, she realized that it was Fred and George. She headed towards them and settled herself into a squashy armchair.

"Did you hear about Ron's and Harry's little adventure?" Fred asked.

Ginny nodded. "It's just a rumor, though."

"No, I'm quite positive it's true," George said. "They didn't even think to invite us, the wankers…"

"It's not funny!" snapped Ginny. "You know mum, she _will_ find out, and when she does—"

The rest of her sentence was drowned out by a loud storm of cheering. Ginny craned her neck to look past the crowd of people who had suddenly materialized around the portrait hole and saw Harry and Ron entering with Hermione. Relief flooded Ginny to see that the boys were okay, but she was irritated by the attention they were getting. Not in the mood to put up with Fred's waggling eyebrows and significant looks between her and Harry, Ginny decided to go to her dormitory.

She climbed the stairs that her brother had pointed out to her earlier and reached a door with the words "FIRST YEARS" printed in large letters. She opened the door. She was in a small, cozy room with five beds, each with Gryffindor hangings and bedspreads. Her trunk was by the bed in the middle.

Sighing, she collapsed on her bed. It was deliciously warm—a house-elf must have put hot water bottles between the sheets.

Ginny had had a long, tiresome day, and wanted nothing more than to relax in her nice, warm bed. That was exactly what she intended to do until she suddenly remembered the diary that her father had so thoughtfully gotten her. She pulled it out of her trunk, grabbed a bottle of ink and a quill, and settled down at her desk.

_Dear diary,_

Ginny let out an unholy shriek. Those words—they had been there just a second ago! She turned the pages frantically to see if the words were anywhere, but to no avail. She warily turned back to the first page, her quill hovering uncertainly above the page, unsure of whether to try again or not. Before she could make a decision, in the very same ink, words which she had never written appeared on the blank page.

**Hello. **

She wasn't sure whether to be horrified, fascinated, or a mixture of the two. Diaries, certainly, shouldn't talk back. On the other hand, she reasoned with herself, there were many such magical objects, and the fact that her father had bought it—her father, who worked at the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts department at the Ministry! She should not have been worried at all.

_What's your name?_

**You can call me Tom.**

_You can call me Ginny. Everyone does, anyway._

**That's quite a charming name. What is it short for? **

_Ginevra Molly Weasley._

**How dignified.**

_I'm only eleven. I have plenty of time to be dignified in my old age, thank you very much. What's Tom short for?_

**It's just Tom. Tom Marvolo Riddle.**

_Oh, so this is your diary? I saw your name on the back._

**I owned it once, about fifty years ago, and charmed it so it would reply in my handwriting to anyone who wrote within its pages.**

_That's wicked cool. I can't wait to learn how to do things like that. It's only the first day of school and I've already met some really interesting people, but lessons don't start until tomorrow and I'm dying to start practicing magic because I'm finally old enough to catch up with the rest of my brothers. It's quite exhausting, having six older brothers who get to do everything before you do. _

**I am afraid that I cannot relate to that problem. I was a lonely, mistreated orphan, brought up in an orphanage, miles away from anyone with magical powers. Hogwarts was a sort of haven for a boy like me.**

_That sounds ridiculously like this one boy I'm friends with…well no, I shouldn't lie, I'm not quite his friend. He's my brother's best friend, though, and I suppose that makes him my best friend by extension, yeah? His name is Harry Potter, I'm not sure you've heard of him because he's twelve and you're from fifty years ago, but he's quite famous and has the most beautiful green eyes._

**What is he famous for?**

_His parents were murdered by You-Know-Who, who's something of a mass murdering maniac—well, I'm sure you know who he is. But when You-Know-Who tried to kill him, all that was left on him was a little scar—the famous lightning-bolt shaped scar. Nobody knows why, or how, but on that day, You-Know-Who lost his power. Talk about magical, right? You know something's really special when even witches and wizards can't figure out why something magical happened. The only difference between what you told me about yourself and Harry is that he grew up with his evil aunt and uncle and their pig of a son. I haven't met them, but Ron's told me all about them. He and the twins saved Harry from spending the whole summer at his aunt and uncle's by flying Dad's Ford Anglia up to his window—and weren't they mad! _

**I'm sensing a little crush on this Harry Potter character. **

_Merlin, Tom, if you could see me right now I'm sure you'd unkindly point out to me that my face and hair have blended into a creature resembling some sort of tomato. Everyone knows, even Harry I think, and I'm slightly embarrassed that I'm so incredibly obvious about it, but I'm not that good at that whole "keeping your emotions secret" thing. I've got a ruddy bad temper, and I'm ridiculously stubborn, too. _

**I do believe that being stubborn is quite a positive personality trait. It shows that you're not afraid to do what you believe and you will do no matter what to ensure it happens.**

_I agree with you, but I think there's such a thing as being too stubborn, and I'm it. _

**I'm not sure I completely agree with you, Ginevra—can I call you Ginevra?**

_Well, sure, I suppose. No one really does, though._

**Compared to Ginevra, Ginny sounds so immature and childish, does it not?**

_Yeah, now that you mention it, it does. Oh I hear voices—I think my dorm-mates are coming upstairs. I'll talk to you tomorrow, Tom._

**Until then.**

Ginny quickly shut the diary and stuffed it into a drawer just as her fellow first years Natalie Noberdie, Tina Larraine, Romilda Vane, and Lilac Brown.

The five girls exchanged quick greetings, but too exhausted to have a long conversation, fell asleep almost immediately. Ginny thought she would be far too excited to sleep, but quickly found herself drifting away.


	6. Colin Creevey

**A/N: **Sorry it's taken so long again. College. Stuff. I love you all. Don't hate me.

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><p>Chapter VI: Colin Creevey<p>

For some reason, Ginny awoke at an unearthly early hour and was unable to fall back asleep. She stared at the clock in annoyance. 6:13 am.

She quietly got out of bed—Romilda, Lilac, Natalie, and Tina were all fast asleep, Lilac snoring like a little truck—_as they very well should be_, thought Ginny, jerkily pulling her uniform on in frustration. If she couldn't sleep, she might as well do something productive with her time. She tiptoed downstairs to the common room.

Only Hermione Granger was in the common room, her nose buried a textbook.

"What're you doing up so early?" asked Ginny, making Hermione jump violently into the air and slam her book shut. Ginny glanced at the cover. _Voyaging With Vampires, _by Gilderoy Lockhart.

"Merlin, Ginny, you terrified me. Whoever in their right mind would be up at such an hour, honestly."

"You're the one to talk," scoffed Ginny, settling herself into the squashy armchair by the fire.

Hermione rolled her eyes as she opened the book again to find her page. "Lavender Brown is a right awful snorer. I couldn't stay asleep."

Ginny giggled. "Her sister's in my year and has earthquake-inducing snores as well. Perhaps it runs in the family."

Hermione laughed. "You're the one to talk about things running in the family, freckled-feisty-red-head! Which Weasley am I talking about? Oh, I don't know, maybe because all of those traits run in your family!"

Ginny grinned but it was her turn to jump violently when she heard a little squeaky voice call her name.

"Hey, Ginny!"

She whipped around, hitting Hermione with her hair (and making her squawk and spit out said hair), only to see Colin Creevey, the tiny first-year with the camera who had shared the boat with her.

"Hey, Colin. What're you up for?"

"I'm just too excited to sleep anymore! My dad's a milkman, you know, and I never knew magic was a thing before, but it actually makes a whole lot of sense! Weird things have always happened to me, like when these bullies cornered me in primary school the next thing I knew I was up onto the roof! The teacher got right mad at me, too, thinking I'd climbed the building, but look at me! You think a scrawny little kid like me could've climbed a wall? I can hardly walk straight without knocking into something!"

However could a person be so perky at 6:30 in the morning? Hermione and Ginny exchanged a half-amused, half-irritated look.

"What's primary school?" asked Ginny, mystified. "What's a milkman?"

Hermione and Colin, both being Muggle-borns, laughed, and Ginny felt put off. "What?" she asked defensively.

Hermione put the book on her lap and grinned. "They're Muggle things. A milkman is a bloke who delivers bottles of milk to the door, and primary school is schooling for people who are about 5 to 10 years old. I think you wizards call it 'foundation school' when little kids from wizarding families learn all the basic things like reading and writing and spelling."

"Oh," remarked Ginny. "The milk just gets magicked to our house, and I know what foundation school is. Luna and I—she's a Ravenclaw in my year and happens to be my best friend and closest neighbor—we went to the same one."

"Say," Colin said to Hermione after a pause, "aren't you Harry Potter's best friend?"

Hermione nodded, picking up the book again. "Ever since he and Ginny's brother Ron saved me from a mountain troll last Halloween."

"I heard all about Harry Potter from my dormmates! He saved the world from You-Know-Who _twice _and once _last year_! He seems amazing, doesn't he?"

"Well he did have help," said Hermione, nettled. "I was quite a large part in that, thank you _very _much. And Ron, too."

"But Harry Potter was the one who faced You-Know-Who at the end and killed him again! Right? He must be one of the coolest people on the _planet_!"

Ginny winced slightly. Was this how she sounded when she talked about Harry in front of her brothers? Merlin, no _wonder_ they'd been taking the mickey out of her all summer. Colin sounded absolutely ridiculous. She glanced over at Hermione, who had escalated from being nettled to being irritated. She had buried her nose in her book once again, avoiding the Harry-centric conversation.

Colin still was talking about Harry when Romilda Vane, one of Ginny's housemates, arrived. "Ooh, is someone talking about Harry Potter? Isn't he cute? I think I'd like to start a Harry Potter Fan Club of sorts—"

She was interrupted by a hysterical snort from Hermione, followed by a scornful laughing fit. "A fan club—for Harry? The boy who agreed to duel with M—with Malfoy—and got caught in a trap—" She couldn't even finish her sentence because she was laughing too hard.

Romilda looked slightly put off, but Colin looked extremely interested in the prospect of a Harry Potter club. Ginny did not want any part in it, but she inwardly groaned because she knew she'd be roped into it somehow.

All too soon, it was time for breakfast. Ginny sat next to Colin and Hermione, who was reading _Voyages With Vampires _propped upon the milk jug. Colin was talking at breakneck speed to Ginny, but she was paying attention to what Harry and her brother were doing. Hermione was still angry with them for flying the car to school and was very aloof towards them.

Just then, the mail arrived. Something large and grey catapulted down into Hermione's jug of milk, spraying everyone nearby with milk and feathers.

"Errol!" said Ron, as he grabbed the poor owl's legs and yanked it out of the jar. Errol slumped onto the table with a red envelope in his beak. Ginny's eyes grew wide with horror, and she glanced at Ron, who seemed to have noticed the same thing.

"Oh, no—" Ron gasped.

"It's all right, he's still alive," said Hermione, prodding Errol gently with her finger.

"It's not that—it's that," said Ron, pointing at the red envelope.

Ron, Neville, and Ginny were looking at it like it was about to explode. Harry looked bewildered. "What's the matter?" he asked.

"She's—she's sent me a Howler!" said Ron faintly.

"You'd better open it, Ron, it'll be worse if you don't. My Gran sent me one once, and I ignored it and"—Neville gulped— "it was horrible."

Harry looked from one petrified face to another. "What's a Howler?" he asked.

The letter had begun to smoke at the corners.

"Open it, it'll all be over in a few minutes—" Neville urged.

Ron quickly opened it. Ginny and Neville stuffed their fingers in their ears. A roar of sound filled the Great Hall.

"_HOW DARE YOU? STEALING THE CAR, I WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY EXPELLED YOU, YOU WAIT TILL I GET HOLD OF YOU, I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE SAW IT WAS GONE! WE GOT A LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT, I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME, YOU AND HARRY COULD HAVE BOTH DIED, I AM ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED! YOUR FATHER'S FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT, AND IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT BACK HOME_."

The entire Great Hall was staring in silence at Ron and Harry, who were both beetroot-red. The red envelope burst into flames and curled into ashes. Errol seemed dazed.

Slowly, people resumed their general activities, but Hermione closed her book and looked down at the crimson thing that was Ron's head.

"Well, I don't know what you expected, Ron, but you—"

"Don't tell me I deserved it," he snapped.

Harry pushed his porridge away, barely having eaten anything. He looked rather ill.

At that moment, Professor McGonagall, who had been distributing timetables, handed Ginny hers. She saw that she had History of Magic with the Hufflepuffs first.

Ginny remembered Ron telling her that their professor was a ghost, but she had forgotten the description of exactly how boring he was. Ginny took some notes about Emeric the Evil and Uric the Oddball, while Colin doodled on his parchment.

At the end of the hour Professor Binns gave them a foot-long essay about Regnart the Revengeful and were supposed to hand it in the next week.

Ginny wanted to be productive, so she headed up to the common room to begin writing her essay. She had just started when Hermione arrived, her arms laden with books and a smug expression on her face.

"What's got you so happy?" asked Ginny, amused by Hermione's expression.

"I _love _going to class. Especially when it's not with Professor Snape, but don't tell Harry and Ron I told you that. I just really love getting the right answers. I've already earned 40 points for Gryffindor today!"

"However did you do that?" Ginny said, impressed in spite of herself.

"Well today's lesson was on Mandrakes, which are a powerful restorative. They're used to return people who've been transfigured or cursed to their original state. So when Sprout asked the class what a Mandrake was, of course, I was the only one who got the answer right. I was actually the only one who even raised their hand. She gave me 20 points for that! And then, she asked us why Mandrakes were dangerous. I was the only one who raised their hand _again_, and I got 20 more points for saying that Mandrake cries are fatal to anyone who hears them. But the Mandrakes we're working with are babies, so they'd just knock you out for a couple of hours. We got to use earmuffs! It reminded me a bit of holidaying in France during the winter."

Ginny glanced at Hermione, torn between amusement and annoyance at this long-winded explanation of her Herbology lesson, but Hermione just looked so happy when she got answers right. Ginny thought that perhaps it stemmed from being a Muggle-born, but also, Hermione just liked learning things, and who was she to take away her pleasure?

"We took the mandrakes out of their pots and put them in larger pots, you know, so they'd have more room to stretch their tiny little legs and grow more. Ron was so surprised that there were little muddy babies instead of roots that he dropped one on my foot and it bit me! Luckily I was wearing boots, so the damage was minimal…"

By the time the bell rang for Charms, Ginny had only finished one foot of her History of Magic essay. She supposed she could have done more without Hermione talking so much in her ear.

The Charms professor, Flitwick, also gave them homework—practice the "swish and flick" wand movement, and to name five other wand movements. The lesson had been extremely interesting, especially because she remembered when she read Ron's letters to Ginny about how he had had such trouble with the spell, but finally got it right to save Hermione. The spell hadn't seemed very difficult to Ginny.

After Charms was lunch break. Ginny headed down to the Great Hall, accompanied by Luna, who had been in Charms with her. The two friends parted ways after reaching the entrance, Luna to join the Ravenclaws and Ginny to join the Gryffindors.

Ginny seated herself between Ron and Fred. She waved at Colin, who was sitting nearby, taking photographs of his food with a large camera. Ron seemed to be extremely grumpy about something.

"Ron, what's—"

"What've we got this afternoon?" asked Harry, interrupting Ginny as if he had not heard her. She would have lashed out and called out anyone else who dared interrupt, but it was _Harry_. She didn't mind _too _much, and even wished she knew the answer so she could tell him.

Hermione replied at once. "Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Why," demanded Ron, "have you outlined all Lockhart's lessons in little hearts?"

Hermione blushed furiously and grabbed the schedule back. Ginny raised an eyebrow at Hermione, who just shook her head, still scarlet, and followed Harry and Ron out of the Great Hall.

More to change the subject than anything else, Ginny asked Colin, "What have we got this afternoon?"

Colin replied, "Transfiguration with the Ravenclaws. One second—I'm going to ask Harry something—"

Ginny felt herself filling to the brim with dread. She had an extremely bad feeling about this. Colin grabbed his camera and caught up with Harry.

"All right, Harry? I'm—I'm Colin Creevey! I'm in Gryffindor, too! D'you think—would it be all right if— can I have a picture?" he said, raising his camera hopefully.

"A picture?" Harry repeated blankly.

"So I can prove I've met you! I know all about you. Everyone's told me. About how you survived when You-Know-Who tried to kill you and how he disappeared and everything and how you still got a lightening scar on your forehead and a boy in my dormitory said if I develop the film in the right potion, the pictures will move! It's amazing here, isn't it? I never knew all the odd stuff I could do was magic till I got the letter from Hogwarts. My dad's a milkman, he couldn't believe it either! So I'm taking loads of pictures so I can send them home to him and it'll be really good if I could get one of you, maybe your friend could take it and I could stand next to you? And then, could you sign it?"

"Signed photos? You're giving out signed photos, Potter?" echoed the scathing voice of Draco Malfoy. "Everyone line up! Harry Potter is giving out signed photos!"

Harry, clenching his fists, said, "No I'm not. Shut up, Malfoy."

"You're just jealous!" said Colin. Ginny slapped her forehead. This was looking uncomfortably familiar.

"Jealous? Of what? I don't want a foul scar right across my head, thanks. I don't think that getting my head cut open makes you that special, myself."

Ron said, furiously, "Eat slugs, Malfoy."

"Be careful, Weasley. You don't want to start any trouble or your Mummy'll have to come and take you away from school! _If you put another toe out of line_—Weasley would like a signed photo, Potter. It'd be worth more than his family's whole house—"

Ginny was furious. _Insulting my mum, how DARE he? WHO does he think he is?_

Before Ginny could get at him, Lockhart came up, as if he had heard the words "signed photos" from miles away. Colin eagerly took a picture of both Lockhart and Harry. He seemed to be really excited that he had taken a double photo of two internationally famous wizards, while Ginny was seething. Why did Malfoy keep targeting their family? And why was Colin so _stupid_?

The bell for Transfiguration rang at that moment. Eager Colin dragged an angry Ginny into the Transfiguration classroom.

Professor McGonagall gave them assigned seats. Ginny's heart danced as she got to sit next to Luna Lovegood. Colin was assigned to sit next to Romilda Vane. She whispered excitedly to him, and Ginny had a sinking feeling that the two of them were talking about the stupid Harry Potter Fan Club idea.

When Professor McGonagall began speaking, the entire room became silent.

"Transfiguration is one of the most dangerous and complex form of magic you will learn at Hogwarts. Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

Everyone was extremely impressed when Professor McGonagall changed her desk to a pig and back. No one could wait to get started but they soon realized that they would not be changing furniture into animals for a very long time. After taking a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match and were told to turn it into a needle.

By the end of the lesson, Ginny had managed to change half of her matchstick into half of a needle, and McGonagall gave her a rare smile.

The next lesson was Herbology with the Hufflepuffs, and Hermione had been right—they were learning about Mandrakes.

"Listen up everybody," said Professor Sprout. "Now, since you're all first-years, you should be down in Greenhouse One. But I have an inkling that these Mandrakes are ready to be potted, and it's important we finish. Now, who can tell me about Mandrakes?"

Seeing as nobody seemed to know the answer—or want to speak up in class—Ginny raised her hand, having been lectured in depth by Hermione earlier in the day.

"A Mandrake is used to return people who've been paralyzed or cursed to their regular state."

"Excellent! Ten points to Gryffindor. The Mandrake does indeed form an essential part of most antidotes. But the Mandrake is also dangerous. Can anyone tell me why?"

Again, no one raised their hand, so Ginny raised hers.

"But of course, Miss Weasley can."

"The cry of the Mandrake is fatal to anyone who hears it."

"Exactly! You remind me of Hermione Granger, you know that?"

"She was the one who told me this, Professor," laughed Ginny.

Professor Sprout said, "Well, of course. Take another ten points to Gryffindor. Now the Mandrakes we have here are very young. Usually I don't cover Mandrakes until third year, but my second sense is telling me that we will need all the help with Mandrakes that we can get. Okay, now, do it!"

Their lesson happened almost exactly like Hermione described it (except, of course, without Ron dropping a Mandrake on her foot) and they were all muddy and sweaty when they tramped up to the castle.

She was finished with classes, so Ginny took a quick shower and then went to her room to extract her diary and write in it. She decided to take it to the common room. There were not many people there, except Fred and George, cracking jokes to each other by the fireplace. She went up to them and poked Fred.

"Oi, what was that for? Oh, it's you, Ginny. How was your first day?"

"It was pretty normal, except for working with Mandrakes, which I guess first years normally don't do."

"Yeah, that's usually a third-year thing, isn't it?" mused George. "Well, I guess Sprout's feeling strongly about them this year."

The two of them were some of the most secretive people about their inner kindness. When Ginny would come home crying after being bullied in school, Bill and Charlie and Percy—oh, Percy was the worst culprit of all—would baby her and give her candy. Somehow it just didn't sit right with her, and Fred and George would give her the inspiration to be the strongest version of herself she could be. "Anything's possible if you've got enough nerve," they'd always say.

She never really had to say much, she contented herself with sitting and listening to the things they'd say. She did the same for a little while until the two decided to go down for dinner, and they invited her.

After a delicious meal and after meeting Lee Jordan again, and being introduced to some members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, including Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinett, and Katie Bell. Ginny enjoyed looking at Oliver Wood, the Quidditch team captain, but sternly told herself that he was too old for her, and besides, she always had loved the Quidditch uniform. And anyway, Harry had one.

That night, in the common room, Ginny wrote in her diary again.

_Dear diary,_

**Hello, Ginevra.**

_Oh! With all the excitement of the first day of classes I'd completely forgotten you wrote back! How have you been doing?_

**Quite boring, in actuality. I have no physical form, I just occupy this diary and write back to whomsoever desires to write to me to while away the time. **

_Oh, that does sound rather dull. Not to sound rude or anything, but whatever you did to get stuck in a diary, you probably deserve being bored._

**You can certainly put it that way.**

_How come you call me Ginevra?_

**I think it's rather special, isn't it? You did say no one else called you by your given name. **

_That's quite true, actually. I think it's growing on me. Keep calling me Ginevra, Tom, I think I quite like it. _

**Of course.**

_I met this rather annoying boy today. His name is Colin Creevey and he follows Harry around taking pictures of him. He created quite a fuss today, and got Harry into a fight. I only wish that he had kept his nose out of his business, for Agrippa's sake._

**He seems rather irritating. You should not waste your time with people as daft as him.**

_He's well meaning, I suppose. And harmless. He's nice enough, Tom. He and Hermione had a sort of bonding experience earlier today when they both laughed about some Muggle thing I didn't know._

**They're Muggles, are they?**

_Yes, Muggle-borns, both of them. Do you know whatever on earth a milkman is?_

**Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. I was a half-blood who grew up in a Muggle orphanage, of which I do believe I've informed you before. **

_You told me you grew up in an orphanage before Hogwarts, but not a MUGGLE one! Merlin, Tom, that must have been horrible. I'm sorry. _

**It had its ups and downs.**

_I suppose that's a cheery way of looking at it. You seem like you'd have been one of my good friends here. I think you've got a good outlook on life. _

**Why, that's quite a compliment.**

_I feel like it's important to tell people exactly what's on your mind, whether it's good or bad. So far, I quite like you._

**I'm pleased. **

_Merlin—I've been writing in you for nearly half an hour. I'm tired out, I think I'm going to bed. Good night, Tom, I'll talk to you later._

**Sweet dreams.**

Unfortunately, her dreams were plagued with images of roosters. Not as sweet as she would have liked.

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><p><strong>AN:** FORESHADOWING! This chapter was very difficult to write and I think it shows. If you read and review I'll know exactly how to improve so please do that I love you all!


	7. Mudbloods and Murmurs

A few uneventful weeks passed. Ginny woke up, wrote in her diary, went to class, went to meals, and wrote in her diary again before bed.

"Ginny!" cried Hermione one day, having seen her friend walking down the hall.

"Hermione!" Ginny exclaimed warmly. She had been having a rather lonely time during the past few weeks, since Hermione was caught up with the boys and Luna was caught up with schoolwork.

"It's been a while since I've seen you! How are you?" asked Hermione.

"I've been alright, so much schoolwork though! I think Charms is my favorite class," Ginny replied. "That reminds me! I learned a new one the other day! It's called the Bat-Bogey Hex and it's-"

"Oh, dis_gusting_, Ginny!"

"Oh shove off, it's amazing. Seeing those giant winged bogeys attack Malfoy's face…"

At that thought Hermione _had _to giggle. She stifled it immediately, and glanced around her furtively. "Don't tell the boys I laughed at that, though," she whispered.

"How's Harry doing?" asked Ginny, feigning casualness.

Hermione saw straight through Ginny's act at once. "Why don't you ask him yourself?"

"I could _never_!" shrieked Ginny. "Let's see you telling Professor Lockhart you fancy him, how about?"

Hermione's cheeks turned pink and she whacked Ginny on the arm with her book of the day. "Don't-what-I like someone else!"

"Sure you do," giggled Ginny. "Gilderoy and Hermione… Hermeroy. Hermeroy Grangeheart. What cute little children you'd have!"

Hermione rolled her eyes, still a little pink, and said, "I regret even saying hello to you."

"Did you know, though, Colin Creevey has Harry's schedule memorized?"

"I figured, seeing as Colin is quite literally _everywhere. We. Go._ It's horribly annoying."

"He's got such a squeaky little voice I can hear him from kilometers away, for the love of Merlin!"

The bell for classes rang at just that moment, and, after a hurried goodbye, Ginny scurried off to Transfiguration as Hermione ran to Charms.

That night, her dreams were plagued by roosters again, but this time, she heard a voice.

"Rip."

Ginny kept sleeping.

"Tear."

Her legs carried her out of bed.

"Kill."

Ginny asked, "Where?"

"Roosters."

And Ginny knew what to do. She felt her feet walking her to Hagrid's and to his rooster pen. It was a pitch black night, Fang was howling, so no one heard her strangle the rooster or the cry it emitted into the night.

She went to the shed and found a bottle of Flesh-Eating Slug Repellant.

"_Evanesco_," she whispered, even though the spell was OWL level.

She woke up in the morning and remembered nothing.

_Dear Tom, there are rooster feathers all over my front, and I don't know how they got there. I think I'm losing my memory! _

**Is everything alright? **

_I was sleeping and then all of a sudden I woke up and I was covered in rooster feathers. I didn't even touch a rooster last night! I don't know what to do! _

**Oh dear. That doesn't sound very pleasant.**

_I'm terrified, Tom. This isn't like me, I never sleep-walk, and so I couldn't have gone to the henhouse in my sleep. I think I'm going mad! _

**No, of course not! You should just go take a nap. You're probably suffering from overwork.**

_I couldn't have gone through the castle during the night because the caretaker, a Squib named Filch, would have caught me! Oh, Tom, I'm going to listen to you and take a nap. I have never felt this awful before. Talk to you later._

Since she was already awake, she decided to take her breakfast down to the Quidditch pitch. She was interrogated by the Slytherin Quidditch team captain, Marcus Flint, on why she was there, but once he saw she was nothing but a first-year, lost interest in the girl.

Soon the Gryffindor Quidditch team traipsed onto the pitch, and a huge commotion began. Ginny, curious, walked over to the argument.

She was just in time to see Draco Malfoy saying, "I'm the new Slytherin seeker, Weasley. Everyone's just been admiring the brooms my father's bought our team. Good, aren't they? But perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms, too. You could raffle off those Cleansweep Fives; I expect a museum would bid for them."

Hermione interrupted the Slytherins' howls of laughter. "At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to _buy _their way in. They got in on pure talent."

Her elation at Hermione's excellent retort was marred by the next few words that Draco uttered.

"No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood."

Ginny was blinded by the anger that flashed before her eyes, but before she could do anything, she heard Ron yelling, "You'll pay for that one, Malfoy!"

Something happened, Ginny was unsure of what, but he began belching slugs, and Ginny's tear

"Ron! Ron! Are you all right?" squealed Hermione. Ginny tried to go towards them as they walked to Hagrid's, but the crowd was too thick.

This was why she was to be found crying in the common room while everyone else was enjoying a delicious dinner.

"Ginny, are you alright?"

"No," sobbed Ginny. "I've been very absentminded lately. I wander to a place and don't know how I got there! And I have this horrible feeling…"

"What happened?"

"This year is a bad year for Muggle-borns, Hermione, I just know it!"

She trailed off into sobs. Hermione, not being able to get anything more out of the terrified Ginny, worriedly decided to continue working on her homework.

No one knew that Ginny was right.

No one, that is, except Tom Marvolo Riddle.


End file.
